Destiny Deterred
by A.D. Williams
Summary: Several years after their fated draw, Hwoarang and Jin once again run into each other. Yet it seems that no matter how hard Hwoarang tries, things keep getting in the way of their fight...like Jin's job at Best Buy! Will they ever settle their score?
1. A Blind Date With Death

Hello, hello! The name's A.D. Wiiliams, a lovely pen name, and writing comedy's my game! Okay, enough of the riddles or whatever! Cutting to the chase of things, this is my first Tekken fanfict…I've tried my hand with few different things but writing a story on a video game…this may present a problem due to the fact that you have to buy it to know about it! I will tell you this about my stories: the characters are always portrayed differently. Hey, you can't make a comedy and have everyone the way they are in reality, you might as well go play the game/watch the show if that's the case! So, if that's not going to be too much of a problem (for if it is, you might want to stop right here), do enjoy my whimsical ramblings!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hwoarang, Jin, Kazuya, Heihachi, Julia, Xiayou, Lee, Lei…ah hell, I don't own any of the Tekken characters! Property of Namco…I didn't want that sexy Korean or that beautiful Japanese boy anyways, humph!

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A Blind Date with Death**

The plane ride had been everything but what Hwoarang had hoped it would be. Before it even left the ground, two men stood up and grabbed a woman as a hostage and threatened to kill her if the Korean government didn't reveal its weapons of mass destruction. What they didn't seem to remember was that it was _North _Korea that had the nuclear bombs or whatever, not South Korea.

After SWAT (if they have that in Korea!) negotiated with the men to let her go and the plane was in the air, he thought he'd get a few hours of sleep before touchdown in Tokyo. That dream went up in flames as did the plane's kitchen. It was only a five hour flight, but Hwoarang had been looking forward to his lobster dinner.

Then he noticed that the elderly stewardess was paying way too much attention to him for his liking.

"May I get you another pillow sir?" she asked him as she passed by.

"Um, gee, don't you think I have enough?" Hwoarang said, gesturing to the ten pillows surrounding him. He knocked one out of the way lest it suffocate him. "I'm good to go," he told her, putting on the sweetest smile he could manage despite the eventful flight so far.

She gave him a wide smile, so wide that her dentures fell out of her mouth and into his lap.

"Oh God! Ah, shit!" Hwoarang screamed, trying to push them away, but they sank down into the pillows. "I think I can feel them touching my crotch!" he shrieked, knocking over everything in front of him. "Ew, she's sucking me off!"

"Sir, don't worry, this can be fixed!" The woman tried to say, but it came out more like "Fur, don'f wowary, fis can be fwikst!" Huge globs of spit rained down on the boys' face, one very large one in particular landing in Hwoarang's open mouth as he screamed.

"Fuck! Now it's like we've French kissed!" He bent over and started gagging, seizures racking his body. The next thing he knew, he felt faint and had collapsed on the floor. He woke up some time later in what he could only assume was a hospital. A doctor stood nearby.

"You're lucky to be alive right now, sir," he said to him as he walked over. "Had you not been lying on the floor when the plane crash landed, you'd be dead…like everyone else on that flight…"

Hwoarang's face paled. _What the hell is going on today?! _"Uh, yeah…" He climbed out of the bed and stumbled on his unsteady feet. Behind him, someone whistled and he looked down at himself. He was wearing the hospital gown and his butt was showing through the back. He grabbed his clothes off a chair and rushed into a bathroom to change.

When he came out, the doctor was waiting for him and looking down at a clipboard. He tore a piece of paper off of it and handed it to him. The bill.

"One thousand yen for a frickin' IV and for an hour's time in a room?! What kind of place is this?!" Hwoarang yelled at the doctor.

Then he realized something. _Yen. So I reached Japan? _"Uh, look, I'll have your money…just bill it to me later…" he started backing up toward the door.

The doctor took a step forward. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked him.

"To, uh, get your money. You know, gotta head to an ATM for the funds…"

The doctor stopped his advancement. "You know, even if you are trying to skip town on us, it's in your records. No more medical coverage until you pay us."

Hwoarang smiled. Hardly ever did he go to the hospital…home remedies were a wonder…as long as they were your own and not master Baek's! "Gotcha," he said, making a mental note of his words and left.

So, miraculously, he'd arrived in one piece. Now he could begin his mission of finding Jin Kazama. They would have their rematch, even if it killed him! Like today almost did…

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Okay, there's the first chapter! Hope to have more soon! Do be kind and review!


	2. Things That Go Bump In The Night

So sorry for the long pause, muse hasn't been the most active lately. Due to that, I feel that this chapter lacks some key essentials to it being a comedy. But anywho, let me not hold you up any longer. Stimulate your brain follicles and read!

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**Things That Go Bump in the Night**

As if public transportation hadn't already been a bitch to him, now the people were too. He couldn't hail a taxi to save his life and none of the motorists would pick him up when he gave the hitchhikers thumb. Except one…

"Where ya goin', hot stuff?" A biker asked him as he pulled up. Hwoarang tried to act like he hadn't seen or heard him, but it was too late. The guy had seen his quick glance.

"Um…you know what? I think I'll walk; the exercise would do wonders for me." Hwoarang told him, continuing down the street.

The man kept up on his motorcycle. "You already look like a wonder to me," he muttered heatedly, staring at the young Korean through lidded eyes.

Hwoarang stopped and rounded on him. "What did you say?"

"You want a ride or what?" the guy asked, ignoring his question. Hwoarang considered his options. Honmaru was twenty miles away. Even if he miraculously ran half the trip, it'd still take him over four hours to reach there.

He looked at the guy on the bike and sighed. "Fine, but don't pull any sweet stuff on me." He stood beside the bike conjuring up every ounce of courage he had. _This is normal in Europe, this is normal in Europe,_he said to himself as he sat down, not knowing if it was true but needing to believe in it for sanity's sake.

"You're gonna need something to hold on to," the other man said. "Wrap your arms around me."

_Why didn't I at least wear a long sleeved shirt?!_Hwoarang silently screamed at himself. Instead, he'd worn his customary outfit of jeans and a tight short sleeved shirt. It was meant to attract some attention, but not this kind!

Slowly, an eternity going by, he put one arm and then the other around the man. "There we go. So, where too?"

"Honmaru," Hwoarang said, shutting his eyes tight so as not to see the stares others were giving them. The other man pulled off and Hwoarang was thankful for the bikes speed. This wouldn't last long. The guy tried engaging him in conversation, but he acted like he couldn't hear him due to the wind in his ear.

"Put your mouth close to my ear so you can hear me better!" The guy shouted, but that was completely out of the question. This too was ignored.

An hour later, they rode into the town. It was a place that Hwoarang expected Jin to be hiding out, trying to keep a low profile from his grandfather and resurrected father. The man stopped outside of a hotel and let him off. But before Hwoarang could get fully off of it, his hand was grabbed. It was rubbed all over the other man's face and his wrist was smelled before he could snatch it back. Hwoarang had no words for this, and simply shook his head and walked off.

"Come back, my beautiful rose!" the biker cried.

"Dude, I'm twenty-one, and you're like, fifty! Find someone your own age!" That was all he could come up with, but it seemed to work, for the man had a hurt and perplexed expression on his face as he drove away.

Hwoarang checked out a room at the hotel, using up the last of his money to do so. So that meant only one thing. "Time to fight for a bit of dough," he said with a smirk. He put on his fighting gloves and swaggered down the street, looking for someone who would put up some money for a duel.

He didn't have far to go, for it seemed that trouble found him, not the other way around. He'd already noticed people whispering and pointing, not at him himself so much, but more toward his head. "The goggles?" he thought, and pulled them off, letting a lock of hair fall into his eyes.

From around a corner, four young men appeared, one of them swinging a chain slowly. They stopped dead when they saw Hwoarang. "His hair is red! He's a Blood! Get him!"

They charged him and before the fight fully began, he muttered, "They have Japanese Bloods?! What the fuck is the world coming too?!" He swung a fist at the first guy, and a roundhouse kick to the second, threw the third one behind him where his head went through a restaurant's window, and hit a five hit foot combo on the fourth. They lay where they landed without moving.

"That's it? That's Japanese gangs for you?" He sighed and grabbed one of the men nearest him, taking his money and whatever valuables he could find. Pocketing the others' money, he went inside the restaurant that he'd just smashed the guys' head into and grabbed a table near the back.

The place was dimly lit, though everyone was laughing jovially, and enjoying themselves. Women wearing kimono moved among the tables refilling drinks. When one came to his table, he ordered a Heineken.

"Sake?" the woman asked. He shook his head.

"Heineken," he repeated.

She blinked at him. "Sake?" she asked again.

"No, dammit, I don't want any sake!" Hwoarang snapped. "Hei-ne-ken! That doesn't sound anything like sake!"

She blinked again, then very calmly said, "I get you sake. Calm fiery temper down," then left.

Hwoarang did a double take at her. _She spoke English? And still couldn't get my order right?_He groaned and put his face in his hands. "Japan sucks donkey dick," he said. The woman returned and put a glass with some clear liquid in front of him.

"Sake. Drink." She encouraged. Hwoarang sloshed it around for a moment before tipping back his head and downing the glass. The let the taste sit on his tongue for a moment.

"You know, this isn't half bad," he said. "Another." She gave a curt nod and left, returning a minute later with several glasses. He consumed all of them.

Ten minutes later, things began to seem a bit topsy-turvy. "Whoa! Am I on a carousel or did the room start moving?" he slurred. The waitress had sat down at his table to watch as he put back drink after drink.

"Hey, I have a secret, my dirty little secret," he said with a glazed smile. He leaned across the table, knocking over the glasses. "I have four balls. Two down here," he said, gesturing below. "And two here!" he cackled as he pointed to his face. "Get it? Eye _balls?_" He fell out of his seat, tears streaming down his face. He didn't even protest when security was called and he was dragged out onto the street.

The cold air helped to revive him some and he stumbled back to his hotel room. Through his drunken haze, he knew that a splitting headache awaited him in the morning so he sat a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand next to the bed. Without taking anything off, he collapsed into the sheets, snoring before his head hit the pillow.

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Okay, like I said, my creativity has been lacking a bit here lately so forgive me if this chapter bored you to tears. Really, the true plot of this story will begin with the next chapter, so stay on the lookout for it! Anywho, you do you but please review!


	3. When I See You

Alright, my bad for the lack of an update in so long…have quite a bit on my plate as a senior at the end of the year! Such a thing includes writing my valedictorian speech…how the hell that happened is beyond me…and that's not me being modest, I'm seriously shocked. But I'm rambling on about me, please read on!

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**When I See You**

Just as Hwoarang had predicted, the mind numbing pain of his hangover slammed into him like a hammer the moment he woke up. He shut his eyes against the harsh sunlight coming through the window and snatched the bottle of aspirin off the dresser, popped the top, and swallowed several of the pills. Overdosing wasn't a concern of his at that moment.

A few more hours of sleep and he felt a little better…at least the throbbing in his temples had stopped. He sat up and clicked on the TV, randomly picking something to watch. It ended up being the news.

"Yesterday, a plane crash in downtown Tokyo kept the fire department busy for eight hours as they battled the raging flames and worked to free any trapped survivors. There was only one." Hwoarang sat closer to the edge of the bed to listen.

The scene changed from the anchor woman to footage of the plane before it crashed. It seemed the plane had gone into a straight nose dive with no attempt to correct it. Then a massive explosion could be heard as debris smashed into the ground. Another scene change showed the fire fighters pulling a disheveled body from the wreckage. Him. He was shaking and muttering something and captions on the bottom of the screen clarified his words: "Gummy BJ's, gummy BJ's…"

The picture went back to the reporter. "The full reasoning behind the crash is still a bit unclear, but according to the last call received on the pilot's cell phone, his wife had just broken up with him. It can be assumed that this was a suicide/murder crash. I'm Tsuyuki Mamoto, more on this story as it develops."

Hwoarang couldn't watch anymore TV and quickly switched it off again. So that's what had happened…how come he was the only survivor? Was it his destiny to live? "Oh, shut up!" he yelled to himself. "I've been eating way too many fortune cookies…though the last one read 'beware the sign of the dragon'… _I'm_the sign of the dragon! What's that supposed to mean?" He rolled slowly out of bed, cautious to not upset his still fragile brain and took a cold shower. _So many useful purposes freezing water serves…_

Dressing in his usual garb of a badass' wardrobe, he left his hotel room to find Jin Kazama. The town wasn't that large, and Jin was a person that could stand out anywhere. _Probably because of that stupid hair style. 50 pounds of hair gel…_ He asked around for a moment if anyone had seen him but everyone ran away or was unwilling to give information to him, due to his own hair. "What is it with red that these people find wrong?!" He muttered angrily to himself. "You'd think this was _The Village_or something."

He kept up his search though, determined to find his rival. He checked store by store, wondering just how low of a profile Jin was trying to keep in this town, when he saw something that looked very out of place in the small town. Slap dab in the middle of the main shopping markets was a Best Buy that didn't seem to belong with the quaint, small village. It was too…urban. But he gave it a shrug. What was there to lose? He headed towards it and had to suppress a gasp when he stepped in front of the door and it opened on its own. All of the other stores opened manually only. Inside, the smell of new electronics greeted him. So many mom and pop stores…they were fine, but this…this was better.

He wandered the aisles aimlessly until a sales representative came over to him. "May I help you sir?" the girl said brightly. She couldn't have been much older than sixteen.

"Jin Kazama," he muttered, not knowing why he was telling this girl this. She blinked for a moment, then turned and walked off.

_O-kay then…_ He went back to haunting the aisles, never really taking in any of the items on the shelves. Soon he had wandered to the back where there were several big screen TV's on, all showing the same American football game.

He wasn't one for sports really, except for martial arts, but the idea of being able to legally plow your opponent in this game interested him somewhat. He stopped right in the middle of a screen to watch, drooling over the larger-than-life feel of the people and graphics.

"All these TV's are built with HD receptors," someone said off to his side. Another sales rep. He paid the guy no mind. "Satellite quality without the satellite. That's the future for you."

The man kept his gaze on the screen as well. "Are you thinking about buying one?" Here Hwoarang pulled his eyes from the game. The other man did so as well at the same time. Their eyes met. Then…

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Ah, cliffie! Hey, it'll give me a starting point for the next chapter since that's always my problem. But you can probably guess what's about to happen…not giving anything away here. Okay, review me, flame me, whatever, do speak your mind. I'm happy for the detailed reviews I'm starting to get; I'll admit, I'm used to people just saying "Update soon!" (expressing your own sentiment, Tinner1212!) which is cool, but if you can tell me where I could improve, that's also appreciated (not complaining about what reviews I do get! A review is a review, damnit!) Okay, rambling on again. You know the deal.


	4. Lovers, Friends, and All InBeween

So, my long work in progress is finally finished enough for it to be posted! No, this is just a fanfict, nothing I'm trying to go big with! And what a waste of time that would be anyways! But nonetheless, do enjoy!

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Lovers, Friends, and All In-between**

Hwoarang pulled his eyes from the game. The other man did so as well at the same time. Their eyes met. Then…

"God, are you following me?" Hwoarang screamed, pointing an accusing finger at the elderly man who had given him the ride to the town.

The man shrugged. "Hey, I work here. Seems to me that it's the other way around." He gave him a smirk and tilted his head. "You know, we could use more muscular, young men like you to do the heavy lifting. Looking for a job?" He winked and Hwoarang recoiled.

"I'm looking for Jin Kazama," he blurted again for no real reason. But it was the only thing he could think of.

The other man's shoulders sagged. "Oh. I see. You already have someone. Okay." He turned around and before leaving, said over his shoulder, "I want you to know that you're letting a good thing go."

"Uh-huh, you never know if something's good if you've never had it," Hwoarang said.

"Exactly," and the man stormed off.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant—! Oh, I am so boned…ugh, I mean…never mind…" His own shoulders sagged and he took up wandering the aisles again.

Somehow his feet led him to the back of the store. There, the bathrooms stood next to each other, and a little farther down the wall was the employee lounge. The door was cracked and he could just see a figure tilted back in a chair leaning against a wall. He walked a little closer to peek inside, but accidently pushed the door open more, making a loud creaking sound in the general silence of the store. The chair slammed to the ground and the figure turned around quickly.

Jin. Hwoarang didn't even think. He rushed forward and slammed his right fist into his cheek. The boy was knocked out of the chair and slid across the floor to the other side of the room. Hwoarang stood back with his fists raised, a smirk spreading on his face. "Damn that felt good! You don't know how long I've wanted to do that!"

Jin stumbled to his feet and brushed the back of his hand against his face to wipe away some blood. "I missed you too," he muttered.

They stared for a moment, then Hwoarang lowered his fists. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Here in the lounge or here in this town?" Jin asked, rightening up the chair and sitting down in it, then tilting it back again. "Well, you already know about my hectic family…the crazed grandfather who threw his own son off a cliff, the deranged father who wants to suck the life force out his own son, the mother who's rumored to be an angel, the cousin who's suing me because I stuck my face in her chest…I didn't know she was related to me, I figured the only family I had left were the Mishima's…yeah, my family on both sides is kinda weird. So of course I needed a place to hide myself."

"I tried Russia," Jin continued, "But the mafia has a disliking with the Mishima's, and due to being dragged around the world by Heihachi, I'm pretty internationally known. Tried Australia, but Roger—rather Roger Jr. since the original died a few years back due to being ran over by a road runner—followed me everywhere I went…do you know how hard it is to do grocery shopping when you have a kangaroo following you? And then it tried to shoplift by putting a can of asparagus in his pouch and I got the blame! Tried a few other places, but none seemed to do any good…including getting my ass kicked in America by Nina when her sister Anna made a move on me when she herself had intended to. Let's just say I don't think I can have kids now…"

He finished to look up and see Hwoarang had taken a seat and was chewing on a strand of his hair and made a face. "Some badass," Jin scoffed.

Hwoarang quickly pulled the hair from his mouth and made like he was chewing a nail. "Okay, lovely life story you've got there. And why did you decide to work here at a Best Buy?"

Jin continued to lean back and closed his eyes. "How did you find me?" he asked instead.

"This is where you were born, right? You sure don't make it _that _hard to find you if someone wanted to. But…I thought you were raised in the forest?"

Jin's eyes snapped open and his chair landed back on the ground with a _snap_. "What's wrong with being raised in a forest?" he asked sharply. "A forest is away from the dangers of city life and economic distresses."

"So live in the suburbs! Dude, no wonder you're so dumb!"

Jin stood up quickly and Hwoarang did too. "I am not dumb, I'm naïve!" Jin said.

Hwoarang was about to shoot a comment back, but stopped and nodded. "As if that's supposed to be better…but outside of social things, you're a genius. Remember when I did my last year of school here? I—"

"You went to school here? You went to school at all?" Jin's eyes widened at the thought of it.

"Uh, yeah, for like two weeks…then they realized my transcripts were a fake and chucked me out. But anyways! When I was here, I sat next to you in trigonometry. I tried to get you to float me some answers, but I guess you must have never heard me…or seen me. Jin, are you always so unaware of your surroundings?" Hwoarang was dead serious about the question.

The Japanese youth didn't answer him, only searched in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out of the container and put it in his mouth, then leaned back again and shut his eyes.

"Beside everyone on your dad's side of the family wanting your head on a platter, what's happened to make you start smoking?" Hwoarang asked.

"Nothing. I don't smoke them, I just think they make me look cool."

A mental alarm went off in the other's mind and he reached out and grabbed the collared shirt of Jin, ripping away his name tag. "Makes you look cool?" He snatched the cancer stick and put it in his mouth, then searched his own pockets for a lighter and lit it. "Drug Abuse Resistance Education! Didn't you learn anything from DARE?" He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and breathed the fumes in Jin's face. "These things are dangerous for your health."

"So you're smoking one now because-?" Jin said.

"I'm different," Hwoarang sighed between puffs, then put it out on the table in the lounge.

Just then, the door opened and there stood Hwoarang's wannabe lover. The red head still had a grip on Jin's shirt, with his face only inches away from his.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt a private moment?" The man sneered, a hurt expression in his eyes. Jin looked between him and Hwoarang, then pushed himself away from the latter.

"Wow, and you said I've changed!" He scoffed.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes at him. "Uh-huh, yeah, I've changed like _that._" He pointed his head to the side to gesture toward whom he was talking about.

The elderly man strode across the room to the coffee machine. "You two go on about your business, don't mind me." He poured his coffee as slow as possible, taking his time adding the sugar and creamer, stirring it once every minute. The other two simply watched him. "Go on! It's okay, really, don't mind me!" he encouraged. He finished preparing his drink and leaned back against the counter to watch them. Hwoarang stared point blankly at him, showing his obvious dislike.

It was Jin who broke the silence. "Hey, I gotta get back to work. How about we meet up after this, talk then, okay?"

The other man spluttered, but covered it with a quick cough. Hwoarang flicked his eyes warily over him again, then said. "Fine. And bring your fighting gloves. This time, you're mine." Jin nodded casually, and walked out of the lounge.

As soon as he was gone, Hwoarang whipped back around at the man. "Okay, now this time it is you who's doing the following."

The man sighed, then said, "I work here. I'm the manager. Get out and don't come back. Ever." Hwoarang blinked, then became indignant.

"You mean to tell me that because I won't fuck you or kiss you or whatever you want, you're banning me from here? Fine, I was going to buy that big screen TV, but now I don't want any of your cheap ass appliances!" He shoved the table in front of him hard and left as well.

Back out into the harsh sunlight, he fumed about getting thrown out, telling himself that he didn't really care…but for some reason, he did. It aggravated him that he'd gotten banned by someone half a century old. He considered meeting the man on a lonely street and doing him in…violently…but knew what morals he did have wouldn't let him carry that plan out. He headed back to his hotel room to count down the hours till Jin's ass kicking.

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Wow, this one took me some days to finish! Not because of length, same reason as before, school piling up on me…damn, it's times like these that make me regret joining yearbook staff because that's really what's taking up my time, all the frickin' stories I have to write for it! No, being the Managing Editor isn't easy…and yeah, this time I am bragging, lol! Okay, enough of that once again, please simply review!


	5. Dinner And A Mishima

Wow, I didn't take so long to update this time! Or at least I don't think so…which is good. But I have another announcement to make. The beautiful but elusive idea of internet at my house is gone. Looking around, I realized that the place lacks the proper plug-in's for it…meaning that construction would have to be done, or something like that. Not to mention, we're about to move…again, for the umpteenth time since we've lived in New Orleans! You'd think we were in the army or something! So, with a heavy heart, it hurts me to inform you that I'm really going to have to cut this story short. Like, in the next two chapters will be the ending. So sorry guys…but read this chapter, maybe it will help to brighten your spirits…though it didn't for mine.

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**Dinner and a Mishima**

(partially!)

Around seven that evening, Hwoarang left his room again. He strolled the streets, making sure to wear a cap over his head to hide the hair that seemed to upset everyone. He had started in the direction of the Best Buy, but thought better of it…no sense risking the old guy and his wrath.

He chose a location about a block from the store, heading toward the more outskirtish part of the village. It seemed a likely area that Jin would live in, so he posted himself against a wall and waited. Ten minutes later, a figure walked toward him at a leisurely pace. Hwoarang didn't even wait to see who it was. He reached out a hand, grabbed the guy by the shirt, and spun him around, slamming his back to the wall.

"Hey, dude, I just want to get this prune juice to my grandma!" The guy shouted, throwing his hands up in front of his face. Hwoarang froze.

"Say what? Prune juice? Ugh!" He released the man and took a step back. "Um, damn, I'm sorry about that…thought you were someone else…" He looked away with a shamed expression on his face. The other guy didn't notice it for he had run off down the street at breakneck speeds, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. _Damn, about scared the guy shitless! _

He had turned to lean against the wall again, when he saw out the corner of his eye the unmistakable peaked hair of Jin. The youth was talking on a cell phone and seemed worried about something.

"Xiayou, just give Panda the ice cream, you can always buy some more! Okay, well then if she's lactose intolerant, give her some sherbet instead, it's still a frozen treat. Oh, she won't take any substitutes? She sounds a little hormonal, sure she's not in heat?" Hwoarang's face crumpled in disgust at hearing that. Stepping away from his place, he stood in front of Jin, blocking his way.

"We need to have that rematch," he growled in his ear. Jin held a finger to his lips for him to be quiet. "What Xiayou? Did you tell her there's no such thing as bamboo flavored ice cream? Um…try just putting some bamboo leaves in the ice cream, that'll do it. Alright, call me back if you have any more questions." He flipped the phone shut and turned to Hwoarang. "Now, what where you saying?"

"I said that we need to have that rematch," Hwoarang stated again, but Jin had walked on, as though not interested.

"Uh, yeah, I know, I know," Jin said over his shoulder. "But can I eat real quick first? I'm starved; you kinda interrupted my lunch break at work you know." Hwoarang stood there dumbfounded. They were about to engage in an epic battle and this nimrod wanted to eat?! He followed after him.

Jin didn't seem to mind that he had led his enemy straight to his house. It was a small cottage, comfortable for one person, two at most. As he unlocked the door, something small and yellow rushed past and out the door. Jin seemed unfazed by it, but Hwoarang about had a heart attack.

"What the hell was that?!" he yelled. Jin gave him a nonchalant shrug.

"Gon. After the third tournament, the poor guy had lost his home due to deforestation. He had tagged along with Julia for a while, waiting for her to come up with a rejuvenation process to bring the forests back, but his flatulence was screwing up her concentration. She was about to put him out on the interstate when I stepped in and saved him. So, he's been living with me for the past two years."

Hwoarang blinked. "You mean you actually took that _thing _with you when you traveled? Didn't anyone wonder what the hell a dinosaur was doing alive?! He's a miniature T-Rex, for God's sake! He had to have raised more than a few questions!"

Jin shrugged again and headed into the kitchen. He flipped on a light and rummaged round in the freezer. "Not really. Seems the world is having its fair share of supernatural beings and experiences. Like when Ogre had sucked the life force out of the martial arts masters—oh, sorry…" He glanced at Hwoarang to see that he had tightened his jaw, a stony expression setting on his face.

Jin busied himself with the freezer again. "So, uh, hungry? I got some ribs and Salisbury steak. Take your pick." The Korean came a little closer to peer inside. The freezer was stacked from top to bottom with frozen dinners. TV entrée's in various colored boxes made an impentatrable wall that seemed almost intimidating.

"Jin, tell me this isn't all you have. Tell me you at least have taken _some _initiative to buy real food." But when he pulled open the fridge, the same sight greeted him. He gasped in horror.

"Where the fuck is all your food?!" He grabbed a box of the ribs and examined the picture on the front. "You call this ribs?! It's made from…" he peered closer at it, then gave an outright scream.

"IMITATION MEAT! THIS SHIT AIN'T EVEN COME FROM A REAL ANIMAL!! YOU'RE EATING PROCESSED PLASTIC FOR ALL YOU KNOW!!" He threw the package so hard across the room, it made a dent in his oven and stayed there.

Jin still looked as calm as ever. "I've been eating it for two years now, and I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I'm no longer made of money and food isn't cheap." He went over to the stove and pulled the ribs from the dent. Then he opened the oven door and gave a hard bang on its back, popping the dent out again.

Unwrapping the food, he put it in the microwave. "Set it and forget it," he muttered to himself, remembering the phrase from an infomercial advertising some cooking device. He turned back around to see that Hwoarang had left the room.

He found him in his living room, head leaning against a window. "I couldn't stay in there, man. All that fake food and stuff...imitation meat…" He shuddered at the thought of it. Jin nodded. "It's not as bad as you think," he told him. "But anyways, want a tour of the place?" The redhead thought about it, then simply agreed. There would be plenty of time to fight later, now that he knew where he lived.

Jin showed him around the room they were in first. "This is my father before he went totally berserk in the whole kill your own family way." He pointed to a picture of a very young Kazuya, perhaps no older than nineteen. Except for the hardened look on his face, they looked almost the same. Also there was the issue of—

"What's up with the winged eyebrows?" Hwoarang goffed. "Looks like the guy is about to do an up-and-away just by using his face!" Jin made a noncommittal noise in his throat, then led him to another picture.

"This is my beloved mother, may she rest in peace," Jin said softly, bowing to the picture. Hwoarang openly stared at her. "Uh-huh…I see what your father saw in her…she's like, what, eighteen here? She has no ass, but I can work past that…" Jin grabbed his shirt and pulled him to the next frame.

"Here's a picture of my adopted uncle, Lee. Whatever compelled my grandfather to adopt is a mystery unto the whole world." The man in the photo was silver haired and pale, but unlike the Mishima's, he could smile without that hint of menace being in his eyes. Hwworang snickered at him. "He sure loves purple, doesn't he?" Jin nodded. "It's something both he and my father shared." He pointed to another picture across the room where Kazuya was sporting a purple Armani suit.

They crossed the room to some more pictures. The first one Hwoarang saw was of Heihachi. "Man, your whole family must wish to fly, huh? Check out the Goodyear shoe hair!" With only a bald streak down the middle of his head and one straight peak of white hair on either side, it did look like Heihachi somewhat had wings.

"Yeah, well," Jin said, "He's the only one on the Mishima's side that didn't have a power. Even my great grandfather over here—" he pointed to another frame—"Had weird abilities." This photo was of a burly, bearded man, also with little hair on his palette. "He was the weird last guy you fought in the fifth tournament," Jin continued. "His name's Jinpachi…I supposed that's partially where I got my name from."

Hwoarang stepped closer to get a better look. Suddenly, rage consumed him. "This is that guy with that huge mouth in his stomach, right? The bonehead who decided it would be lovely to spew fireballs at people, freeze them in their tracks in the middle of fighting, then commence to beating the shit out of them! Yeah, I remember this dude. Pussy ass fighter, he wouldn't last fighting me straight up!"

He was about to say more, but the microwave beeped, startling them both. Jin went back into the kitchen and pulled the food out. "Ah, looks done. Let's chow!" Hwoarang followed him only to the doorway.

"Let's? As in us?"

"Yeah. Hungry, right?"

"Not that hungry!"

Jin frowned. "What's wrong with it?"

"Dude, it's not real! Im-i-ta-tion! Ring a bell?"

Jin sighed, setting the tray of food down on the table. Then he grabbed some bread out of a bread box on the counter and set that on the table too, sitting down in a chair himself. He kicked a chair out for Hwoarang.

"When they say imitation, that's not what they mean. No, it's not ribs as in the actual pork kind. This one is made from beef, pork, and chicken. It's real meats, just not the rib, get it?" Hwoarang gave the food a skeptical stare, but sat down and dug in.

Okay, so maybe this completely strayed from his original plan, but you had to start somewhere. Just as he was about to take his first bite, a yellow blur shot in from a pet-slip at the bottom of the front door and crashed into his chair, knocking him to the ground. His first start would be by killing that damn dinosaur!

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After reading another Tekken fanfiction, I realized that Gon had once been a character of the games. I had completely forgotten about him! Oh, and Ninnis, I agree with you that Gon made a better animal character than Alex or Roger…I'm not a huge fan of lizards, and kangaroo's are cute, but miniature dinosaurs are hilarious! And as for Jin's explanation about "imitation meat", I really don't know what it is, so I made something up. If you know, tell me! If imitation meat is a real thing…


	6. Fights and Flights

Alright, this is the last chapter! It's perhaps short, but like I warned with my other story, this all happened with very short notice. Forgive me, but still, I hope you enjoy it!

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**Fights and Flights**

The smell of the mini T-Rex steak in front of Hwoarang steamed tantalizingly up to his nose. He licked his lips, then snatched up a bottle of A1 sauce and began pouring it on. He took his knife and fork into his hands, and was just about to tuck in, when a voice interrupted him.

"You want some baked macaroni and cheese?"

What?! "No, I want this steak," he muttered back, readying his knife above the meat.

"Sure? It has plenty of calcium!"

Would this voice leave him the hell alone? "No I don't want no damn macaroni. Let me eat Gon!"

A gasp, then: "You sick, sadistic bastard!" Something crashed against Hwoarang's head, but for some reason it didn't hurt.

It did happen to wake him up though. His arms went flailing in front of him and he swung wildly at whoever struck him. His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at a skylight in the roof. He was in Jin's bedroom…oh god no.

He pulled himself up quickly and looked down at himself. His clothing arrangement looked fine, even the tucked in tight shirt. So what was he doing here?

He rubbed his head to made sure that there wasn't a bruise forming there. "Gon steaks and Jin's baked macaroni and cheese…ugh. Rubber side dish of a TV dinner meal more like it." He started to get up, then noticed a piece of paper on the bedside table.

"Dear Hwoarang,

I regret to inform you that due to my fighting morals, I cannot give you your rematch outside of a tournament or a duel challenge in the presence of a dojo. Only reason I fought you that first time is because you called my mother a chain smoking whore and a terrorist...though really, what was that all about? I mean, I've never called master Baek a Chuck Norris wannabe! Though I'm sure Baek is older than Chuck…and is probably the one who showed him those martial arts moves…but you get what I'm saying! It was unnecessary. So, this being my principles, I have left the country again. I have gone this time to the end of the world where you are likely to not follow me. And if you do, dress warm.

--J.K. Rowling (just joshing--!)

--J.K.

Hwaorang growled in frustration. "That conniving bastard! How dare he get me full on imitation meat, then run away! He is _so dead _the next time I see him!" His foot kicked out at the bedside table, but instead struck something else. A yellow ball made a squeak-squeal noise and it was projected through the window. "Gon? He didn't take it with him?" One of his evil smiles spread across his face. "Who said dreams are too good to come true?"

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a fork meant for barbecuing and a butcher knife. "Here Gonny, Gonny, Gonny!" He called as he left the house. Then he paused and returned back. Pulling open the fridge, there was the ever menacing stack of microwaveable meals. He snatched a few and shoved them in a stolen pillowcase of Jin's. "He's right about food not being cheap," he reasoned.

Gone was lying face down on the ground outside of the window he had been booted through. He stirred slightly when Hwoarang approached, then sprang to his feet as he realized who it was. Immediately, he started spinning, rolling head over heels through the woods surrounding the village. And Hwoarang…

Hwoarang let him go. Like his fight with Jin, it could wait. He'd get his day…Jin's defeat and Gon's roasting over an open fire…patience was a virtue…

Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He whipped out his internet-accessed cell phone and began researching the quickest way to get to Antarctica.

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So, I'll admit that I'm not too proud of this chapter, but perhaps in a later day and time, I can go back and improve it. Still, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing, I really appreciated all of the constructive comments you left! I'm sorry that I also didn't get the chance to read your stories, do forgive me, but continue writing for one day I hope to read them! Well, till whenever my internet situation stabilizes (whenever, if ever that is, lol!) see ya!

A.D. Williams rollin' out!


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